


Alarm Clock

by iwaizumemes (skytramp)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/iwaizumemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six-thirty in the morning, five days a week, on the dot, Suga is awoken by the off-key screechings, he doesn’t have it in him to dignify it as singing, of his neighbor in the shower. It had only been two weeks since he moved in and in that time he’d never actually seen the man that the voice belonged to, but he imagined he must be incredibly annoying, maybe short, possibly hairy and perpetually single.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alarm Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nearlyfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nearlyfiction/gifts).



> I'm sorry it took so long to get you a gift for this exchange but I hope you enjoy it! The prompt was really great, though I took some liberties with it. :)

Six-thirty in the morning, five days a week, on the dot, Suga is awoken by the off-key screechings, he doesn’t have it in him to dignify it as singing, of his neighbor in the shower. It had only been two weeks since he moved in and in that time he’d never actually seen the man that the voice belonged to, but he imagined he must be incredibly annoying, maybe short, possibly hairy and perpetually single. 

Suga was a notoriously late sleeper on the best of days, and on weeks like this, when his days off fell on Wednesday and Thursday and he would have liked to sleep in, he cursed his punctual tone deaf neighbor. Unfortunately, he was the type of person who could never fall back asleep after he woke up, so he figured he might as well take a shower himself. 

He guessed that their showers shared a wall, it made sense in such a formulaic apartment complex, and the noise was louder in there, echoing off the laminate shower walls. He turned on the water and fan in an attempt to drown out the sound. It worked until he shut the shower curtain behind him and stepped under the water. 

His neighbor was singing a song he knew now, though it was only vaguely recognizable, he could hear that he was singing along with the song as it played in his own bathroom. That made more sense, he supposed the man wasn’t a walking shuffle of recent hits, he listened to the radio. As he showered he found himself singing along, too, first humming, and then the actual lyrics before he caught himself. 

That was an idea he hadn’t considered. He’d been running through plans, everything from leaving an inconspicuous note taped to his door to marching over there at 6:35AM in his pajamas and demanding he shut up. This plan had its faults though. There was a good chance that this man had no shame, judging by his singing voice, but, he supposed, there was also a chance he just didn’t realize how thin the walls were and he would be put off by clear evidence that someone could hear him. 

The man was still singing, and it was still a song Suga knew well enough that when the chorus came around he sang it. He sang it loud and proud and, if he was judging correctly, at least 75% more on-key than his neighbor. After a few words the accompanying voice stopped altogether, and Suga finished the chorus with his neighbor’s radio coming faintly through the wall. 

He couldn’t keep from laughing when it all was finished, and he hoped the man couldn’t hear that much, at least. 

 

The next morning, his second day off, Suga woke, yawning, at half past ten. It was amazing how much better he felt, and it was very easy to stifle the small amount of guilt from embarrassing his neighbor the day before. He didn’t have many plans for the day, and after a lazy morning and taking a shower he left his apartment at half past three in search of a late lunch. 

A man was walking down the hallway, he looked about Suga’s age and just a little bit taller with dark hair and a muscular build. He had his keys in his hand so Suga figured him for a resident of the building, and wondered why he hadn’t seen him before. The man froze when he saw Suga, and then walked very quickly past, avoiding all eye contact. 

Suga looked down at himself. Yes, he was wearing pants, and even proper shoes. He didn’t see any stains on his t-shirt and he hadn’t eaten yet so there was no way he had food on his face. _What’s his problem?_ He wondered briefly before he noticed where the man stopped: next door. 

Suga wanted to sink into the wall behind him as he watched the man unlock his door. This was terrible. This was possibly the worst thing he’d ever done and there was a time during his childhood when he’d eaten every bug his friends dared him to. It wasn’t that he had embarrassed his neighbor, that he could deal with, that he still wanted to look back on while giggling to himself, no, it was that he had embarrassed his incredibly _hot_ neighbor. This was a tragedy. 

He didn’t move until his neighbor had shut the door firmly behind him and he heard the lock slide shut. 

 

The next week was still mercifully silent, but every time Suga woke up, well rested with no singing to interrupt his sleep he felt more and more guilty. He hadn’t seen his neighbor again, which sort of felt like a good thing, but also sort of seemed like he was being avoided.

It took a few more days before Suga worked up the nerve to approach him. He ordered himself too much takeout and held the plastic bag in his fist as he knocked on his neighbor’s door. He knew the man was home, he came home from work after seven like he normally did and Suga had waited forty five agonizing minutes before daring to confront him. 

The door opened surprisingly quickly and there he was. His neighbor, in all his amazingly casual glory, t-shirt and sweatpants and tired look in his eyes. 

“Um, hello, I’m your neighbor, my name’s Sugawara and--” He paused, lifting the food in his hand, but his neighbor spoke before he could continue.

“I’m Sawamura, I, uh, know who you are-- Look, I’m sorry--” He began and Suga lifted both hands the best he could in a show of surrender. 

“No, don’t apologize! I, sort of, came here for that? Here, a gesture of goodwill in the form of the only good takeout place that delivers to our complex.” He held out the bag and Sawamura took it from him, still looking relatively bashful. 

“Do you, I mean, would you like to come in?” Sawamura took a step back, giving Suga enough space to pass him if he wanted. 

Truthfully he hadn’t considered beyond the apology, which he had yet to truly deliver. He’d expected he’d be laughed at, or yelled at, or something in between. He hadn’t expected bashful shyness and, god forbid, the return apology. Well, it couldn’t hurt to hang out until he was truly allowed to apologize. Besides, he hadn’t eaten yet and there really was enough food for two. He nodded and followed Sawamura inside the apartment. 

He had been right about the layout, it was identical to his, only mirrored, and he could tell exactly which door led to the bathroom, and which was the bedroom. 

He followed Sawamura to the small table and knelt beside it while the food was dished out. Luckily there were utensils in the bag and Suga began to eat for fear of not knowing what to say. 

“I’m still sorry, by the way, I never realized--” Sawamura began again and Suga shushed him with a hand held out over the table. He swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. 

“I was dick about it, though, which is why I’m sorry, I, sort of figured there’d be no harm in it, but then I saw how you looked the next day and felt super bad about everything.”

“It’s okay.” Sawamura said, taking a bite of his food. And, ridiculously, it sounded like he meant it. Suga still felt sort of bad, and he didn’t want to invite the guy to continue singing, but shaming him about it felt wrong too. 

“Did you really not know how thin the walls are?” 

Sawamura almost choked on the bite of food he had been chewing and Suga couldn’t help but laugh a little at the look on his face. It was probably inappropriate to think about what other things Suga could have overheard if he never informed his neighbor of their thin walls, but he was thinking it anyway. 

Sawamura eventually choked out a quiet little “no” and they continued to eat. Suga let the silence sit for a minute or two before moving on to safer topics. 

“So, what do you do?” 

It turned out that Sawamura, his given name was Daichi he soon learned, was a banker, a gorgeous banker who spent his free time either at the gym or playing volleyball, and Suga’s crush was uncontrollable. They had finished their meal and continued to talk late into the night until Sawamura had remarked on the time and how he had to work early, which Suga knew, of course, and Suga excused himself. They stood in his doorway and exchanged phone numbers. 

The next morning Suga woke up, precisely six thirty AM, to the sound of a running shower and Daichi’s loud unrelenting off key singing and laughed so hard he fell off his bed.


End file.
